Logical Explanations
by Bag Of Badgers
Summary: There is definitely a logical, reasonable explanation for how this happened. Definitely. Maybe. ...Probably not. Awkward, virginal GerIta involving curlplay, do not show this to any children you may be watching or have stolen.


There was a perfectly logical explanation for this, Ludwig was sure.

Perfectly logical.

Perfectly reasonable.

Probably the reason was that Feliciano had kissed him, as he did, and then presumably Ludwig had kissed back, and events had quite possibly unfolded in a manner that was… well, entirely foreign to Ludwig except for manuals and some old romance novels abandoned halfway through out of embarrassment but had seemed to involve liberal and heated insertion of Feliciano's tongue into Ludwig's mouth and a lot of hands going places they really had no business being.

Perfectly reasonable.

A perfectly logical explanation for the fact that Feliciano had him pinned against the wall (pinned, the man was half a head shorter and far lighter and had Ludwig _pinned_, this was _ridiculous_), mouth firmly locked with his and hands wandering dangerously low, one thigh shoved between Ludwig's, and he still had no idea _how_ this had happened, logical explanation notwithstanding. Just some very blurry, warm memories of soft lips and groaning and hands in his gelled hair, hands which had now moved down to the front of Ludwig's pants and hooked under the lip, increasing the warm feeling in his stomach and sending off flurries of butterflies.

Ludwig's hands moved up Feliciano's sides to his shoulders, seemingly of their own accord, and gripped tightly, because another interesting thing that required a logical explanation was the sudden weakness in his knees, and the only one that seemed to exist was it was because of Feliciano's kisses, which wasn't. Particularly logical, that is.

No matter, though, because they were there, and so were the weak knees and usually by this point Ludwig would have put down the romance novel before he started blushing too hard, to avoid repeats of the time Gilbert had caught him reading one and the teasing hadn't stopped for_weeks_, but pulling away from Feliciano just didn't seem to be an option, never mind that hiding him under the bed would be a horrible method of keeping this from Gilbert and his mind had seriously wandered from the issue at hand, which was the location of Feliciano's hands uncomfortably close to his crotch.

Ludwig's hands, again seemingly of their own accord and he should _really_ work on getting them under control, had wandered into Feliciano's thick hair, holding his head close, and then—

—Feliciano moaned?

_What?_

Not that he hadn't before, but that one was different, and it seemed to be the reason for Feliciano then grabbing Ludwig's hips and pulling them against his own _oh good Lord_ that was— different. Definitely. Um. Well.

What _was_ it with Feliciano and that one hair, anyway?

Ludwig tugged on it a little, experimentally, and then Feliciano made another weird breathy, squeaky noise into Ludwig's mouth—Feliciano was nearly on his tiptoes now, trying to kiss and hold Ludwig against the wall—and rolled his hips again, and mumbled "D-do that again."

"What does it—"

"Just—" —Feliciano didn't have time to finish his sentence, considering Ludwig had given in and pulled the curl again, made just a bit bolder—they'd got this far and he was pretty sure he hadn't done anything seriously wrong, after all—and Feliciano then did something honestly really clever with his hips and Ludwig was pretty sure his knees were going to give out very soon.

He found himself only becoming more sure of that idea as Feliciano's hips continued to move against his and one of his hands began to tangle in the hair at the back of Ludwig's head, as Ludwig gave the curl another pull, as Feliciano licked into his mouth and did something wonderful with his hips and—_and!_

Ludwig's head dropped to Feliciano's shoulder, and he panted, and raised it after a few long seconds, already trying to shrink in embarrassment. "Sorry, I just—sorry—"

Feliciano shook his head, lips swollen, seeming a little dazed. "Nn—'s okay. Just—just help me—"

Perhaps there wasn't a quite logical explanation for how Ludwig reached down with one hand, the other left in Feliciano's hair and tugging at the curl every now and again, hesitantly following Feliciano's directions (and his pants were kind of getting uncomfortable, too, but that didn't quite matter yet), but just this once Ludwig decided he could go without one.


End file.
